The Boy
by The Childlike Empress
Summary: i don't really like my character, but i wanted to write a story about him.


The Boy

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. All I won is the plot. Nothing more nothing less)

It was dark downstairs. The only light came from the moon that was spilling through the gap in the curtains.

He walked to the door and opened it, then walked through the archway onto the front lawn. He looked up at the moon. It was full, a bright yellow colour.

He sat on the cold cement of the garden path and waited.

******

He was still there when the sun came up. What he had been waiting for hadn't come and he was getting worried. He stood up and went back upstairs to his bedroom. He sat there on his bed, a puzzled look on his sleepy face. He shrugged, the got under the covers and went back to sleep.

He dreamed while he was sleeping, a strange dream. 

******

He was standing in the attic, at one of the windows. It was raining and he was crying, silent tears running down his face. He turned, looked at the old furniture in the room and glared at it, as though it had done something to him. He turned back to the window. There was a dark shape out there, but he couldn't see what it was. It looked almost like a dog, but it was way to big.... The dark shape loomed out of the darkness.

The boy screamed and stumbled backwards. He ran from the room, his tears forgotten.

He hurtled down the stairs and crashed into a solid shape at the bottom of them. It was a person. 

"Don't be afraid," the person said. "It's not going to hurt you. It has already done its job..." The face of the person leered into the light that came from the window at the foot of the stairs.

He screamed again and ran backwards. That face...

******

Draco sat bolt upright, panting. His face felt wet. He reached up and touched his cheek. He had been crying.

'That's weird,' He thought. 'I don't cry...'

Then he remembered that face. That room. He flopped back down on the bed, confused.

"What the hell was that about anyway?" He asked himself. "Why in the heck was my..."

His mother came into the room. "Draco, are you okay? I heard you talking to yourself."

"Yes, mother, I'm _fine."_

"Well okay, if you say so." She smiled at him and left the room.

He sneered at her back. She always _babied him. Like he was a two year old or something. _

"For gods sake, I'm 15." He said to the door. He kicked off the covers on his bed and sat up.

His father hadn't come home last night. He'd been waiting for him outside. He wanted to know why he'd been so worried before he left. He knew something had happened.

He heard a scream from downstairs.

"What now?" He asked the ceiling and walked down the stairs to the lounge room.

His mother was standing there, a note in her hand. There was an owl on the windowsill, blinking at her. It took one look at Draco's face and flew off.

"What is it mother?" He asked, sweetly. After all she was the one who gave him all the those thins...

"It's your father Draco... he..." She burst into tears and slid down onto the couch. Her hands shook.

He reached for the note and pulled it from her tight grasp. 'I wonder what's got her in such a mess. Probably her aunt died and left her a ton of money.... hey... that means I get a ton of money.' A gleam came over his gray eyes.He smiled and unfolded the piece of parchment.

******

It read:

_Dear Mrs Malfoy. (Mrs Malfoy, he thought to himself. How formal do you want to get?)_

_Your husband, Lucius, was taken last night. (Taken? Where?)_

_We are very sorry about your loss. Avery and Macnair will arrive at your manor shortly to discuss matters with you. _

******

"LOSS?!" He screeched. "My father is DEAD?"

His mother nodded. She reached out to give him a hug, but he wrenched away from her. "Don't hug me, _mother. I'm NOT a baby. I can look after myself you know."_

He turned away and walked back to his room.

He couldn't believe his father was _dead. This was so weird. He was meant to be indestructible or something. _

"Lucius Malfoy _dead?" He asked himself._

Then he remembered the dream. That dog, the Grim. It was telling him....

"God Draco, _get a grip. You aren't a nutter like Professor Trelawney. It was just a __dream."_

He sat on the bed.

"Hey." He said aloud, a grin spreading across his face.

It wasn't like his father loved him or anything. Hell, he was the most unloving man Draco had ever met. Not that Draco wanted him to love him, but still.

But if his father was dead, that meant no more pushing around. No more having to be the best at everything. No more stupid people liking only for what his father was.

His father was dead. And that meant only one thing to Draco. 

"MONEY." He said to the mirror. "I'll be the richest kid at school! God, this is gonna be GREAT. I'll be able to show that stupid git Potter and his poor friend _Weasley a thing or two. Stupid poor piece of..."_

He jumped up. There was some serious planning to do.

(A/N Little bastard isn't he?)

Please review. This is my first ever fanfic.


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